Scion
by Enige-iets
Summary: Y'shtola is a very private individual & so is Thancred. Few of the current Scions really know their histories, only that they were 2 of the 1st & that they know each other well. Very well. Very, very well indeed. Y'shtolaxThancred. Rated T for now, rating is subject to change. Will contain death, alcoholism and sexual relations later in fiction.


_**Scion.**_

* * *

Scion, the name which struck fear into the hearts of any Garlean, aroused much curiosity and trepidation in the hearts of Eorzeans and in my heart… Pride.

I was newly accepted, fresh meat and the alluring beauty at the top of our order had requested, ever so sweetly, that I seek out another potential member to join our famed company. I had been told that she was a Mi'qote of some beauty, with keen eyes and a brilliant mind. She had a love of the ocean and of flowers, and the sun and, as all Mi'qote are bound to have, a love of all things which grow.

My quarry was, however, something of an elusive cat. She never remained in one place for long, skipping in and around the Isle of Vylebrand in such a strange and erratic manner that at first I had no idea what she was doing. But I am no idiot and it soon became clear that she was doing what brilliant minds do best; she was expanding it. Once I had realised that, the pattern followed swiftly afterwards. She was visiting libraries, archives and record holds all over the island. What she was searching for, I had no idea and still to this day have no idea.

I eventually caught up to her at Moraby Dry-docks, a small settlement turned shipyard on the southern-most coast of Vylebrand. It has a small records' room beside the lumber yard and it was in there that I found her.

I let myself into a dark pokey little room filled with shelves, row upon row of the things storing all kinds of things needed for the shipyard. One small oil lamp was the only means of illumination for the room, an oil lamp which was held in dainty hands by a short, female Mi'qote who crouched at the back of the room. I approached her from behind, still hidden in the shadow of the shelves, but I was a fool to think I had gone undetected. There was no way I could have, she heard the door open and close and the light from the sunshine would certainly have given it all away. But there was every possibility for me to be a worker from the docks, or the record-keeper even.

She had no doubts that I was a stranger and not to be trusted. A faint blue lattice drew itself upon her body, even though the cat herself had thus-far failed to turn and face me. It was time to introduce myself.

"You've no need to protect yourself," I said, making sure to keep my hands away from my daggers, as they were prone to wander in times of caution, or nerves. "I'm not here to harm you."

"Then why are you here?" A slightly haughty tone, the voice of a genius no doubt, but coloured with that soft, feather-light hum that signalled a relaxed and controlled demeanour.

"To recruit you, my dear." I said.

At this, she did turn, she even stood. Well, I had heard she was a beauty, but the stories had truly done her no justice, no justice at all… If our leader was an alluring beauty, then this cat was exquisite… High cheek-bones, thin, straight nose, full lips painted rose pink by the lamp-light, ice-blue eyes, pupils vertical and assessing, and thin, snow-white brows arched elegantly in incredulity. She apparently didn't think much of being 'recruited'.

"You are not dear to me," she said, looking me up and down, "Do not use the word so freely with me, Hyur."

Well well, a beauty with a tongue in her head… And I made a mental note to avoid that particular endearment.

I stepped into the lamp-light so that she might see me better, "My name is Thancred and I meant you no offense, truly."

"Y'shtola, and I am not offended." She said, before turning her back and returning to her inspection of whatever it was.

"But you won't join us?" I asked. So long had been spent in tracking her down that I hadn't even considered what to do once I'd found her. As far as my plan went I would find her, ask her, she was agree and then we would both journey back to Minfilia. It hadn't even crossed my mind that she wouldn't want to go. The Scions were a legendary people! Sought after for their knowledge and strength! They were reviled as Gods… Why wouldn't she want to join us?

"I have no idea, my good fellow, who you are."

"We are the Circle of Knowing."

"We? I see but one of you. Tell me, are there more of your cronies skulking in the shadows?"

"Skulk-?!" This was apparently going to take a little more time than I thought. But it was a request from Minfilia herself and it would _not_ be abandoned. I would stick to it if it took me all year. I shook my head, "Very well, Y'shtola, I see you are not at all interested. I shall return to my Mistress empty handed…" Her ears were pointed my way and gave a purposeful twitch when I ground my foot into the floor, making to leave, "Such a shame, we would have been ever so grateful for a mind such as yours."

* * *

It was a few nights later that I saw Y'shtola again. She was sat taking dinner at the local tavern. She was also sleeping there and I made a point of taking a room on the same floor, so I might know when she left her room. She was rarely ever in her room as it turned out and the room – despite the tavern-owner telling me that she had been renting that same room for a number of months – held little to no personal effects at all. No pens, not even a night-shirt. She was a most elusive creature indeed and I halted my forays into her room quite quickly once that point had become apparent.

I took a seat inside the tavern and asked the bar-keep what Y'shtola was drinking – plain La Noscean Orange Juice as it turned out – and requested that once her glass had run low she was to be supplied with another one, courtesy of myself. Some 15 minutes later, Y'shtola appeared at my shoulder holding a full glass of orange juice.

"I believe this is yours." She said, putting it down next to my pint of ale.

"Ah," I looked stupidly at the glass for a few seconds, not having expected it to be returned to me so quickly – or so full for that matter – before looking up and saying to thin air, "It's for you."

Unfortunately for me a rather bulky Roegadyn took up the seat beside me just as I said this and he looked first from the orange juice, to me and back again. "Really?" He asked, "That's so kind of you," before giving me a beautiful smile, a wink and making to pick up the glass. Horrified, I swept it from his reach, surrendering my ale instead as I scampered outside in search of my slippery foe, muttering as I went, "No, not really…"

My slippery foe – for that is what she was fast becoming in my mind – was seated at her table, still enjoying her dinner. I plonked the glass down next to her and stood there until she motioned to the seat opposite for me to sit down. Honestly, I was so miffed at the situation inside that I really didn't want to sit down, but it would do me no good to sulk or behave childishly in front of my quarry.

"Why," I hissed at her, "Are you making my life so difficult?"

"Difficult?" She repeated, slicing neatly through a mushroom, "I had no idea a glass of orange juice would cause so much pain."

"If you had just accepted it, it wouldn't have caused my any pain at all!"

"If you had thought of a better ploy I would not have been forced to reject it."

"A better… What do you mean? It was no ploy at all!"

She chewed the mushroom delicately as she considered her words. I watched her jaw working as she ate. Such a thin piece of bone encased in such pale, weak-looking skin… She was a scholar and no mistake; such a female would do no good in a real fight.

"I am not a skirt you might chase, Mr Thancred, and I have had my fill of oranges."

I thought a little bit, as she finished up her dinner, about taking back my observations about her jaw and how badly she would do in a fight, she was certainly angling for one. Why, if she annoyed my any further I might think about initiating one myself!

She put her cutlery together on her plate and then looked at someone over my left shoulder. "I think it's you time to pay the bill, Mr Thancred." She said.

I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see the bar-keep come thundering out of the tavern with a worn out old battle stave in his hands, apparently searching for the handsome stranger who had neglected to pay for either his ale, or his orange juice.

* * *

"Well? What have you to offer this time?" I asked as Mr Thancred made his way towards me, a long thin tube in one hand and a little wooden box in the other. "Not some more orange juice I should assume."

"Not at all," he said, setting the box down on the ground beside me and popping the lid off his tube. "It would seem that offering you anything is useless, my dear. You don't want companionship and you don't want any orange juice. I'm afraid I have run out of things to offer you."

The box turned out to be a tackle-box and the tube housed a fishing rod, which he pulled out and assembled, before taking a seat beside me and beginning to apply some bait to his line. We were sat on the edge of a bridge which linked the Island of Moraby to the rest of Vylebrand and although it was a place of commute, constantly bustling with carriages and carts towing this and that to and fro, I had always found it to be remarkably peaceful place. Everyone was no busy that they never bothered to hassle you for anything. Well, besides relocating your good self if you were found to be under everybody's feet that was…

I expected to be able to sit there quietly and consider my findings, but lo and behold, here the unshakable blighter was, ready to disrupt my internal monologue yet again. "Don't call my 'my dear'," I muttered, turning my face away to look out over the sea.

"Then stop calling me 'Mr Thancred'," He replied, dropping his line over the edge and into the water below, allowing the current to take it away from the rocks. "Makes me feel ridiculously old."

We sat in an irritable silence for quite some time – irritable on my end at least, he appeared to be quite enjoying himself, wiling away the days chasing skirts and catching fish must have been a marvellous life, really – before I could handle it no longer. "Mr Thancred," I began.

"My dear." He replied with a smile.

"I would appreciate it if I were to be left alone, thank you."

"Oh, I'm not getting in your way, am I?" He asked, sounding thoroughly innocent but then again thoroughly suspicious at the same time. I frowned my disapproval at him, but he was irreproachable. "I was merely fishing for dinner. I thought we might share it. Tonight. Over some orange juice and candle-light."

"Cute."

"Or we could forgo dinner and talk about business here and now."

"Yes," I cried, exasperated, "Alright! Let's talk about business! How long are you going to be poking your nose into my business?!"

If he looked affronted it was only because he deserved it. "Poking my nose-? My dear-"

"Y'shtola!"

"My dear Y'shtola, I have no interest in whatever work it is that you're already doing. I assure you." Doubtful, highly doubtful. "And I promise I shall never ask about it." Even _more_ doubtful. "What I want from you is your help with the future. My Mistress is keen to have your brain working alongside ours in the fight against the Garlean Empire." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as something began tugging on the end of his line. A piece of malm kelp most likely. "You cannot be ignorant of their expansionist goals."

Yes… The Garlean Empire… What a beast it was, all claws and teeth, no softness, no delicacy or tact… It was a dreadful concept made ever more real by the fate which had befallen its conquests… Ala Mhigo… My homeland…

"Ah!" Thancred exclaimed as he dragged a magnificent Tiger Cod from the waves. "Dinner!"

* * *

The soft click of maple on stone alerted me to the presence of my dinner-guest. A cat never could resist a fish-supper after all. I had dragged the Cod back to the Tavern and requested that they prepare it for dinner and that a table be reserved for me and a possible second. What I got when I arrived at the table was a vase of roses, some tea-lights, two place settings, a summer salad, a bottle of white summer Wineport wine and my fish, salt-baked to what smelt like near perfection. My mouth was watering something terrible as I took my seat.

Y'shtola didn't take long to arrive, but she refrained from taking her seat.

"What's the matter?" I asked, "You look miserable. You don't have to eat with me if it bothers you _that_ much."

She _did_ look miserable, even her ears were drooping as she looked over the table contents. I cringed a little inside. Here she was feeling glum and dower and I looked like I was awaiting the love of my life, all romantic and sappy with nary a problem in the world. It was, I assure you, quite the opposite.

"Why don't you, err," I started, standing from my seat and hurrying round the table, "Take a seat…"

"Mr Thancred," She began, putting a hand over mine to stay my actions as I pulled out her chair, "I will not be taking dinner with you, I just wanted to tell you that although I will not be joining you in your battle against the Garleans, it does not mean that I am not fighting them still."

My gaze was fixed to the hand barely touching my knuckles, almost entirely distracted from the conversation by what I could feel on her hands. Dents. Well, more than dents, rifts in the flesh, scars on her fingertips, criss-crossing the soft skin. Gently, so as not to startle her, I took her hand in mine, raising it so I might see the whole hand. It was as I suspected, jagged scars marred its surface.

Suddenly, Y'shtola tore her hand from my grip and stood there, looking shocked and wide-eyed. She had apparently not been expecting me to feel her scars on my knuckles and – when the source of my interest became clear – apparently didn't appreciate me looking at them. Before I could ask where she got them from she had retreated, whirling round and disappearing up the drainpipe and into her room via the window.

I sat and ate my dinner in silence, alone, wondering if her fight against the Garleans was as personal as I suspected it might be and when I'd finished, I blew out the candles, prepared a plate of dinner for her and took it to her room. Quite surprisingly, the door was unlocked when I tried it, but the figure huddled under the blankets was hardly inviting. I knew better than to push my luck. I left dinner on the bedside table and then left the room.

* * *

3 days later and it was time for my departure. My mission had been a failure and I had already called ahead to warn my Mistress of this fact. She had sounded quite disappointed over the link-shell and had requested that I return to the waking-sands immediately.

Following the dinner fiasco I did not see Y'shtola again and had quite given up the prospect of ever seeing her again in the future. I seemed to have greatly offended her – which was a shame because she was one hell of a beauty and I had extoled so much effort – so I held no hopes of a reunion. The bar-keep did inform me though that she had eaten the dinner and returned the empty plate – much-licked I might add – to the kitchen. That at least had not been a waste, although it ill-served to wash the disappointment from me. I had failed my very first assignment.

I packed my trunk onto a Chocobo cart and paid the Lalafell who drove it to take me to Limsa Lominsa. From there I could catch a ship to Vesper Bay and the Waking Sands. It would only take a night by ship. I would be home again by tomorrow morning, though I cannot say my heart was gladdened for it.

The trip to Limsa Lominsa was uneventful, boring even. I sat on the back of the carriage and watched the dust curl in our wake. It had not rained in a good long while – an oddity for an Island such as Vylebrand where two wind currents converge and it is rainy more often than not – and the claws of the chocobos kicked up a goodly amount of dirt, casting it into the wheels of the carriage where it was churned up again into the air. We were leaving the most obvious trail for any predators to follow, but it wouldn't take me long to dispatch them should they arrive. As we crossed the bridge where I had caught my fish I found myself _wanting_ something to attack the carriage, if only to distract me from my failure. Alas it did not and we travelled on to Limsa Lominsa at a snail's pace.

The capital city was as lively as ever. Not Ul'dah lively by any stretch of the imagination, but it had that rowdiness about it that even a man of the desert, a man such as I, could not deny its appeal. I employed a Roegadyn with what little coin I could spare to carry my trunk to the ferry for me. I was handing over my money to the ferry ticketer with more than a sorry air about me when what to my wandering eyes should appear? Why, only that Mi'qote I'd been chasing all week! And the cheeky minx was walking straight towards me!

* * *

Thancred looked as though he'd seen a ghost. I didn't blame him though, I hadn't been expecting to see him again either. I had fled Moraby the day after our unhappy encounter and had instead engaged a room at the Drowning Wench. Baderon was so good as to have my things brought to me this morning via chocobo. I never intended on seeing Thancred again but when my belongings – which were few and tatty as it was – were brought to me I overheard the carriage driver talking to Baderon of a stranger who had travelled from Moraby that morning.

It was becoming more and more frequent to have adventurers toing and froing across Vylebrand, but there could be no mistaking a 'handsome stranger wearing some strange garb or other, one of these desert-dwellers'. It had to be Thancred; he was a desert-dweller and no mistake, incredibly tanned, sun-bleached hair, sandals for pity's sake! Nobody wore sandals around here, and no one could reasonably be called a 'handsome stranger' when most of Vylebrand's inhabitants were Mi'qote. Lalafells rarely consider Mi'qote males to be 'handsome'. Hyur on the other hand are considered handsome by just about any race, so there was no doubt in my mind as to who it had to be. The ferry port in Limsa was also just about the only route to Thanalan by sea, so it made perfect sense for him to be here.

I only really intended to watch him go. Make sure he really was gone. But then I saw him and he looked so forlorn, so disappointed and… Broke. He was shaking a baggy coin purse out onto the ticketer's table and pushing its meagre contents across the wood towards her. Poor man… He wasn't going to get far like that. I was just contemplating his prospects when the darned fool went and saw me. The silly grin that spread across his face at the mere sight of me… I don't know what it was about his delighted, bewildered expression that drew me in, but pretty soon I was at the counter, reclaiming his coins for him and his ticket.

"I'd like another ticket to Vesper Bay, please." I said, "And this man is travelling with me."

"Yes, miss," The girl behind the counter said with a smile before producing another ticket. "Your ticket, miss. The next ferry is departing within the hour."

"Thank you," I said, pushing Thancred's ticket into his chest because he had thus far neglected to take it from me. "Please tell Baderon that I won't be needing the room after all and that he can turf out my things if he likes, there's not much in there."

"But don't you want your things?" Thancred asked as we moved away from the stand, his now-spare coin in hand.

"I don't need them." I said, leading the way through the gate and to the boat, the Roegadyn 'porter' following behind us. "They're not special to me. They were second hand anyway."

The porter abandoned his heavy load as soon as he was able and scurried off before he was asked to do anything else.

"So, what made you decide to come with me?" Thancred asked, approaching the side of the ship. He leant on the railing and looked over the side. Vylebrand has the bluest, clearest waters in all of Eorzea. They often held me in rapture.

"I'll give your Circle of Knowing two months to impress me," I said, joining him at the side. I was making this up as I went along – I hadn't really intended to join him, it was a spur of the moment after all – "If you can't add anything to my knowledge of the Garleans after those two months then I'm coming back here to continue my research my own way."

"But you'll help us as well, won't you?" He asked, peering up at me from under his bangs. "We won't be running around at your beck and call. You have to give us something in return too."

I spread my fingers on the polished wood of the railing, trying to ignore the ash-mauve eyes that looked upon me. It was bad enough that he knew about the scars all over my hands, if he spied the ones on my face as well…

"I'll share my knowledge with you, but it doesn't mean I'll stay with you."

We fell into silence as the ship finished loading and prepared to leave the harbour. The people on the shore waved us off and Thancred waved to a number of ladies, who giggled and flipped their hair a bit. Honestly! He looked up at my snort of derision, but had the good conscience to blush and turn his gaze away. Quite right. So he might spend a few nights with a number of women, but that doesn't mean he needs to be so free with it.

"We should get below deck before the sun sets," I said, heading off towards the hold, "It will take us long enough to get there and there's a storm on the way."

"Right," Thancred said, peering at his ticket, as we approached the hold, "My room number is 22."

I looked at my own ticket with a distinct lack of interest; my room would likely be quite far from his, I was a privileged traveller after all. I had to do a double take when I saw the thing though. '22'. There it was, as clear as day. I looked up to find that Thancred had already taken off down the stairs in the direction of the cabins.

"Wait!" I yelped in horror as I scampered after him, "That's my room!"

* * *

**A/N:** More on the way, regardless of whether or not anyone fancies reading it.

I tried to keep them in character as much as possible, but this is set - as you can probably gather - a little bit before 1.0, when the Circle are just forming. This 'Mistress' character isn't big, I just need her there to add a little conflict later on ;) You'll see...

So, no idea what inspired me to write this, only that I was inspired and I hope my work is good enough :)

-Iets


End file.
